


Restoration

by NotebookishType



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Awkwardness, Borderline Technology Kink, But he didn't expect to, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Feelings Realization, Luke Skywalker Lives, Older Man/Younger Woman, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Relationship, Rey just wants to help, Rey's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotebookishType/pseuds/NotebookishType
Summary: Rey doesn't feel she has much to offer Luke, but she's determined to help him where she can.
Relationships: Rey/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Restoration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wiccy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiccy/gifts).



"Take your glove off," Rey ordered. Her entire body vibrated with anticipation, and she struggled to place why as she leaned against her makeshift workstation.

Luke looked completely out of place in the cluttered prefab shelter. His existence on Ahch-To had been dedicated to simplicity. He raised an eyebrow and studied her for a long moment, but ultimately did as she had asked.

Her breath hitched when she took his cybernetic hand in both of hers. The mechanisms of Luke’s hand were fascinating, unlike anything she’d seen in her life of scavenging. She examined it silently, turning it over and tracing its intricacies first with her gaze, then repeating the path with her fingertips. 

She cleared her throat, glancing up from his hand. “The sensors?”

“Partially functional,” he said. He didn’t sound particularly concerned by the fact.

Rey rolled her lower lip between her teeth, focusing on the mild discomfort and attempting to organize her thoughts. She hadn’t noticed any issues with Luke’s motor skills or dexterity. He was more likely to be missing out on pressure feedback, or differentiating textures and temperatures. _He wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between a damp stone and my skin… Or his skin. Any skin, obviously. Not specifically my—_

“You really should have had this fixed by now,” she blurted, warmth blooming across her cheeks and chest. She was half-insulted that he hadn’t asked her in the time since he’d returned. Though she wasn’t surprised. While he seemed like he’d found something to live for—after failing to sacrifice himself during the Battle of Crait—he was still a far cry from taking care of himself. She’d put aside her Resistance duties to continue her training and they’d set up camp a short hike from the base. 

Luke didn’t respond but she could hear the soft metallic clicks of the components in his hand. Rey tightened her grip and shifted his hand so she could see the back of it.

“This carbon scoring looks older than I am.” Rey sighed, running her thumb over the dark, rough patch. She pushed up his sleeve until she found where flesh and machinery joined. As she traced the juncture, she noticed his muscles went tense when her fingers drifted from durasteel to flesh. Why was that so gratifying?

“Rey.” There was a warning in his tone, but he didn’t pull away from her.

“Luke.” She tested his name. She used to think of him as Master Skywalker, but that didn’t seem right anymore. “I can fabricate reinforced plating for you. It would protect the important bits, and the sleeker profile would—”

"We have more important things to discuss than my hand." There was a waver to his voice, Rey might have missed it entirely if she weren't so focused on him.

She dragged her gaze up to meet his, but wasn’t sure what to say—what he wanted to hear. “I’m to look out for you, and you’re not a hermit anymore. You need to stop acting like one.”

“How does a hermit act?”

She released his arm almost forcefully, and clenched her jaw. “I can’t speak for all hermits, obviously. But you seem determined to wallow in your failures. In the past. Which I don’t understand because you have a chance to try and fix some of this.”

Luke didn’t look away, and for a dizzying moment she could really, properly sense him through the Force. Their connection was overwhelming, like trying to pick individual images out of hundreds of overlapping holo projections—she knew, somehow, that Kylo Ren was represented in that chaos. She could sense a stifling heaviness, a burden of guilt, and grief, and responsibility. He felt responsible for…everything.

“Why did you leave?” There was no accusation in his tone, though it would have been more than fair. Even so, the question ignited something in her. 

“It’s what you should have done!” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She pressed on, fearing that if she stopped she wouldn't be able to articulate her reasoning. “It's what you would have done, the version of you I've heard stories about, anyhow. But you're determined to do nothing. You fear failing so much that you've given up trying,” she huffed. Immediately regretful, and deeply uncomfortable that he could elicit this level of emotion from her.

A strained, humorless laugh erupted from Luke. "If you have everything figured out I don't see what you need me for." He offered an exaggerated shrug, and turned as if to leave.

Rey lunged forward, grabbing him by the arm and pulling until he stopped moving in the opposite direction. She stumbled half a step backward, bumping into her workstation but not letting go.

“Luke." She took his other arm, as if to root him there in front of her. “We both know I don't have anything figured out! I went to Kylo because I've seen the conflict in him. I thought because of my connection with him I could help him make the right choice. I was wrong..."

"But you had to try." Luke's entire demeanor had softened. The bitterness he'd cloaked himself in all this time gave way. It wasn't gone exactly, but she could almost see past it now.

Rey slid her hands up to his shoulders, she still didn't feel that she could let him go. "You don't need to be involved in this fight any more than you already have. It’s clear you don’t want that, which I understand. I also understand that you don't want to create another Jedi Order.” Rey took a deep breath, trying to banish the shakiness she was experiencing.

“But you think you still need me?”

“I _do_ still need you. Teach me what the Jedi had right as well as where they failed. I need you to believe in me—to trust that I won’t fail you. I know I’m asking everything of you…” She trailed off and cleared her throat, suddenly very aware of how close she was to Luke.

He eyed her quietly, weighing her words. “What?”

“I want to repair your hand because it’s the only thing that I can offer you… that’s just for you?” Her cheeks were so warm they had to be visibly pink by now. She couldn’t stop a small laugh from bubbling up. “It sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud.” She leaned into Luke, resting her forehead on his shoulder. She’d half expected him to push her away, she certainly wasn’t expecting him to return the embrace. He was solid and warm, and his outer robe still smelled of salt. Being close this way felt so right.

A short hum rumbled through Luke. “Reinforced plating, huh?”

Rey blinked. It took a moment to process what he’d said, and another to find her voice. “I only have durasteel to work with, but it would protect from the elements as well as any glove.”

It was silent long enough that Rey wasn’t sure if he’d heard her.

“Alright,” he said.


End file.
